


Transphobia.

by orphan_account



Series: Max's Tumblr Inbox [2]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Bullying, Gender Dysphoria, M/M, Oneshot, Parent Tony Stark, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Precious Peter Parker, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, Trans Peter Parker, Transphobia, Tumblr Ask Box Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-29
Updated: 2019-08-29
Packaged: 2020-09-28 22:55:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20433824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Honest to god anything with trans Peter Parker. Maybe someone is transphobic and Tony or May helps support him through it? ANYTHING trans Peter Parker ❤️-anonymous





	Transphobia.

**Author's Note:**

> TW: TRANSPHOBIA N BULLYING

Transphobia. Peter always hated that word. Whenever he said it, he felt like it'd bring more attention to him. So, he didn't.

But it was the only word he could accurately describe his school. I mean, they never hurt Peter, they just kinda... ruined his life. But he could live. But sometimes things got too much for his mental health's sake.

During the day, Peter would get called his deadname maybe once if it was a bad day. Two times a week on average. Four to five on a bad week.

Of course, this was never by the teachers. The teachers could get in hot water if they were to call Peter anything besides what he wanted. Which, sometimes, happened anyway. But rarely and only on accident. He never had any unaccepting teachers. Of course, some were a little awkward about it (especially his Christian counselor for the grade.... yikes), but besides that it was easy.

Peter came out in the middle of Freshman year. So, of course, the teachers were notified to call him Peter (which they slipped up on frequently, which Peter never really got angry at, seeing he was still coming to terms with the name himself) but never got called he. It wasn't on purpose, it was because the boy dressed like a ninja turtle or a lesbian. Hoodies on hoodies on hoodies or tight flannel. He hadn't exactly found his style yet.

But things were better than the year before, which he was heavily thankful for.

Peter's dysphoria never went away, but when he left for school it was a bit better. But today, dysphoria didn't even attempt to let up, pummeling him to the ground. He wanted nothing more to shrink into the gravel.

He was in his gym class with some old man sub, who was just rambling about Caitlyn Jenner, or something. But he wasn't exactly calling her Caitlyn. Nobody corrected him, either. Peter twisted his fingers a bit, staring at his feet. Once he was done and they were allowed to go line up to change into their gym clothes, Peter went over to the teacher. "Um, sir? It's... Caitlyn Jenner."

"Go change." He huffed, looking at his clipboard. Peter held his breath a bit, hesitating before walking towards the gym doors.

"Hey, Parker, where you going?" Some guy laughed. "Girls locker room is that way!"

Peter kept walking, going to the nurse's office. That's where he changed. In the "gender-neutral" bathrooms. But in all honesty, they weren't. One had a closet with, er... feminine products (and a drawer for Peter's gym outfit), and the other had... a lamp, wheelchair, and a baseball poster.

Quickly changing, Peter shoved his clothes into the too-tiny drawer he had to share with the Febreeze. He went back to the gym, sitting in his squad and waiting. Ned was the first one out, which made him grin. Flash was soon after, unfortunate.

"Hey, penis Parker, nobody ever notices you in the boy's locker room. Why's that?" But once he got closer, Flash seemed to come to a fake realization. "Oh, we know why."

"Shut up, Flash." Ned jabbed. Peter's stomach started to knot up. This was a prestigious school, he can't transfer out. He had to tell himself that every day. He usually didn't care, just today was... bad.

"Whatever, have fun being friends with the lesbo." Flash spat, sitting in his spot. Peter running his hands through his hair, sighing.

"I'm not even-" Peter sighed, giving up. "At least recognize I'm bi if not a guy."

"You're bi?" Some girl nearby asked.

"Uh," Peter wasn't very private about that. He had a pin on his bag, so most people just figured. "Yeah."

"Don't most bisexuals identify as lesbians later in life?" She snickered.

Peter just turned his back to her. "I hate this school. It's not like I even _look_ like a girl. I haven't been misgendered since the middle of Freshman year."

"Yeah, that's true. Does Tony know?"

"Yeah, of course. It was a long coming out process. He immediately asked if I now wanted to be called she, which was... quite a conversation."

"I believe you. Yikes."

They were sent to walk the track, and Peter was rambling about his plans to add things to his suit. He felt a slap to the back of his head.

"Move it, tranny!" Some guy barked as he walked by. Peter stumbled, nearly falling over.

Peter tried to ignore it, staring at his feet. The conversation was now mostly held up by Ned, and a bit of MJ. But she gave more points than Peter did. The teen was just anxious and quiet. Peter hated school for so many reasons. Not enough time to be a hero. Not enough time for... anything. But another reason was the kids. Nobody at a S.T.E.M. school would be bullied for being a nerd. It did have its less geeky-people, like jocks and the popular girls. But Peter, and _maybe_ a couple of other students in his grade (two, max), were the only LGBT ones. So he was an open target.

"You okay, dude?" Ned asked.

"Yeah, I just.. just ready to go home, y'know?" He shrugged. Dysphoria started to eat away at him.

"Only got one more class until the weekend." MJ grinned.

"What?" Peter asked, raising an eyebrow. He always got gym class last because he changed across the school.

"Did you forget we have practice?"

Peter sighed. "Yeah, I did. Sorry. I'll be there."

"Don't forget to shoot a text to your rich friend."

"He's picking me up later tonight at seven-thirty."

"Specific." Ned nodded.

"Yeah, he's in Australia right now, I think." Peter tugged at his shirt collar, but then pulling it closer to his neck so his binder strap wasn't for all to see. Unfortunately, that happened a lot.

"Oh no!" Ned gasped. "He's gonna fall off! He's upside-down- he's gonna fall off the earth!"

"What the fuck are you talking about?" MJ interrupted.

Ned shrugged. "Y'know, since the earth is flat."

* * *

Peter sat in practice, tapping his pencil. He kept twirling his pencil between his index finger and thumb, getting anxious.

"Stop being a spaz." One of Flash's friends remarked. Peter looked down. MJ shot the guy a mean glare. Peter started to bounce his leg, instead. "I can see your boobs." He whispered.

That crossed the line. He was making shit up. Peter was as flat as a board with his new binder. Peter's face turned beet red and anxiety crept up his throat, making him want to puke. "Shut- No you can't."

"Well, you are a girl, so it'd make sense-"

"Shut up." He hissed, looking away. Peter had to swallow back the anxiety. He felt like he was going to suffocate.

"Oh no, she's a little shy, isn't she?" He poked Peter's shoulder with the end of his pencil. Mr. Harrington went to grab the study pamphlets nobody was going to read and Peter knew it'd get worse.

"So, why do you call yourself a boy? I mean, you've got tits. And the name's _Karen_, right?" He immediately said. He wasn't exactly all that quiet about it, either.

MJ immediately intervened. "So, remember when Liz wanted you off the team? Excuse my language, but you're so shit I'm surprised you can read, let alone be in this school. Shut the hell up for once in your life, you lackey."

"Whatever, lesbos." He scoffed, laughing.

"First, just because I'm liberal doesn't mean I'm a lesbian. I'm straight."

"You sure like Parker, don't you? Always checking her out-" He continued, elbowing Peter very harshly in the ribs, catching him off guard.

In the process of standing, MJ pushed all of the boy's things off the table. "Get the hell out."

The boy scoffed, a hint of nervousness in his voice. "What if I don't-"

"Get. The. Hell. Out. Right. Now." She placed her hand on the table. "I'm sick of your _shit_, firstly. You never participate and you're nothing but a dick to others. Leave. I want you off my team now, you dead weight."

As much as Peter appreciated the gesture, it made him shrink into his seat even more. It was bringing attention to him and he hated it. The guy scoffed, throwing a pen at MJ. Grabbing his bag, the guy left. Just on time, Mr. Harrington returned. "What did I miss?"

* * *

Peter was the first one out the door when the bell rung 4 pm, to say the least. For the rest of practice, he hadn't even made eye contact with anyone, let alone speak. Anxiety had eaten up all his words, making him choke on air if he tried to speak. He was embarrassed and, frankly, afraid that the guy would hit him as soon as he left the door. Didn't matter, he had a subway to catch.

He got onto his transportation home, free of any attacks. Which, he felt needed to add, never happened. Peter opened his phone, scrolling through stories on his Snapchat. He didn't have many added. Ned was the one that was friends with nearly everyone in the school, whether Ned was friends with them or not.

MJ's text dinged as soon as Peter left the app. It was a screen recording of some kid's story, some name he never heard. But apparently, it was the kid from decathlon, seeing it was all about "trannies' and liberals' ruining New York". It talked about Peter often, only calling him Parker. Some shit about how he got kicked off for talking about Peter's "big chest", which anyone with eyes knew wasn't real. Peter's anxiety made him want to throw up all over the train's already dirty floors.

Peter got off the train at 4:30 and if May weren't home for the evening, he'd web his bag to a wall and visit Staton Island. Just leave this hellhole. But his darling aunt was home.

He hated how hard she had to work to make money, but it was New York, and it's not like they could afford to move. Even if Peter had a paycheck from the internship. May had never asked for money, but Peter had once or twice asked for new supplies for school from Mr. Stark. Tony could always sense how hesitant the boy was and would deadpan and show him his net worth on fucking Google dot com.

"May? I'm home." He announced. His tone was sad and it was obvious he was tired as shit.

"How was school?"

"I mean, it was school, I guess." Peter shrugged. So far this year, including today, May hadn't been at work when Peter came home. The others were when Tony first came over and the day after Ben passing.

"Are you still going over to Tony's tonight?"

"I think- er, I hope so," Peter mumbled, getting a glass out of the cupboard and setting his bag on the dining room chair. He filled the cup with tap water, hesitantly drinking. His phone buzzed continuously in his pocket, begging for the attention it wouldn't get at the moment. He bet it was Ned or MJ.

"Oh, I DVR'd all of our shows!" May desperately tried to change the subject. "Come sit, let's watch them before you go."

Peter couldn't decline at this point. He sat next to her, trying to ignore his phone. It buzzed only once again but he put it on mute as quickly as he could.

"Everything okay?" May asked at the sudden sharp movements.

"It's fine."

"Are you sure? Did something happen at school?"

"No, um, it's nothing." Adverting his gaze, Peter tried to deflect the question.

His aunt lowered her voice. "Is it a Spider-thing?" A small smile crept across her face.

"No, May, it's okay. I promise. Let's just watch our show, okay?" Peter tried to assure her, obviously not working. May dropped the subject, thankfully. 'Their show' was some reality program May would have on in the background while the two talked, but eventually, they fell in love with it, for some odd reason.

Peter's phone buzzed once again, and he glanced at it. Another text notification, which made him turn off his phone again. But seconds after, it buzzed twice. He finally opened it to see four notifications. A tweet of someone being transphobic and an ass, but Ned had tagged him in MJ's response, which was similar to what she had said in the decathlon practice. Peter wanted to delete his entire account, because now everyone had realized he'd seen it, whatever.

May leaned over, reading his phone. "What're you looking at?"

"It's nothing." He turned off his phone. "Just some stuff from school."

"Like what?" She frowned, furrowing her brows. "You said school was fine."

"It's nothing." He repeated.

"Peter, talk to me. I can't help you if you-"

"No, May, it's fine. It's fine." Peter stood up quickly. He grabbed his bag. "I-I have to go pack. I'm fine." He quickly went into his bedroom, shutting the door. He stuffed clothes into his separate backpack along with his chargers, laptop, homework, etc. He had become faster.

Taking a deep breath, Peter's Stark-Watch beeped, alerting him that Happy wasn't too far. The teen put on his sound-canceling headphones, sitting at his desk. He hadn't even taken off his shoes yet. He turned on his calming playlist, starting on his homework. He waited for vibration on his wrist or his phone. He didn't want the latter.

While working out the problems, Peter couldn't stop thinking about the stupid decathlon. He wished he had gone home early to be with May. It's not like he paid attention during the rest of the practice, too embarrassed and nearly cutting his finger on the edge of the desk he kept running his fingers over.

Needless to say, his homework took him twice as long as usual.

Peter felt small tears make it through his closed eyes, curling up into a smaller ball, arms over his head on the desk. The music was loud and he kept his eyes closed, letting tears roll down his cheeks. How long he sat there, trying to calm down, he didn't know. But it was a while. It was hard to get the conversation he had at decathlon out of his head. He didn't want to go to the compound, but at the same time, he did.

Peter let his defenses fall, his shoulders relaxing. His face slick with sadness but it felt so good to just cry. He was quiet, though. His only noise was his sniffles and shaky breaths. He crawled into his bed, keeping a blanket close to his chest. He tried to focus but he felt like he couldn't breathe under the binding. But he didn't care at this point.

His watch beeped again twice, meaning Happy was down the street. He pulled on his bag and swiped the web-shooters off his desk. He clicked them on, going into the bathroom to wash off his face. He dabbed cold water under his eyes and on his wrists. That worked. He rolled his headphones down to his shoulders.

"Happy's here, bye M-" But instead of leaving, he saw Happy at the door. He never came up to get him. Hell, Peter was surprised he even knew his number.

"Oh!" May turned. "Um, have a good time, okay? Do you have your suit? Toothpaste?"

"May, I'm packed. I just want to leave." Peter shook his head, pushing past the two. He grabbed an elevator, putting his headphones back on his head. The doors had shut before Happy was done talking to May. He wanted nothing more to be left alone. Dysphoria was eating away at him worse than it had all day.

Peter climbed into the backseat of the car, waiting. The only way he knew Happy was in the car was him shutting the door.

The ride there was silent and Peter got caught up in his thoughts. He was encaptured by just the replay of what had happened in decathlon’. The only thing that snapped him out of it was his phone ringing, which made him fumble for his phone.

"Hello?"

"Oh, hey. You just weren't answering my texts." MJ responded. "I just got worried."

"No, I'm fine."

"I'm sorry about that guy. I hope he gets in trouble for it. I told Mr. Harrington to take him off the list."

"Uh- MJ, I have to go, I'll call you back." He quickly hung up. Peter looked up at the car ceiling, sighing. The partition was up between the two, so Peter laid his legs across the seats, sighing. He was silent for the rest of the ride.

They pulled up at the compound at around ten. The teen left before Happy could get a word out, mumbling a thank you and goodnight. He went into the elevator. “FRIDAY, where’s Mr. Stark?”

”He is currently working and has been notified of your arrival. He will be up to speak with you in a few minutes.”

Dropping his bag on the floor, the boy flopped onto the bed. “FRIDAY, can you please tell Mr. Stark I want to be left alone for a little bit?”

”Of course.”

”Please let me know if anyone comes to my door.”

”Of course.”

Peter looked out at his window. The city was so beautiful. And maybe he could just go swing for s little bit maybe. But the tight suit would’ve given Peter more dysphoria, so it just wasn’t worth it.

Peter hadn't eaten dinner yet, so he got up. "Where's Mr. Stark?"

"Still in his lab."

"Okay, thank you." He went into the kitchen, taking off his headphones. He played it from his phone, starting to make some basic mac 'n' cheese. It was the only thing he was confident in making and he didn't have much motivation to do much else. He just listened to Hozier and hummed along.

After two songs, a hand was clapped on his back. Peter's spider-ness took over and the boy leaped onto the ceiling, finally getting a good look at his attacker.

"Woah, kiddo, I thought you heard me coming." Tony raised his hands.

Peter heaved a sigh, dropping down onto his feet. "Sorry. Long day."

"What if I were Steve or something? Then you'd be in trouble."

"I just overreacted." He shrugged, adding the flavor packets to the pot.

"Bad day?" Tony sat at the counter.

"I guess." The teen poured his dinner into a bowl.

"Happy told me you were upset."

"I'm not." Peter didn't want to tell Tony about his trans problems. The billionaire oozed testosterone. There was no way he could do that. Peter ate his food, leaning against the counter and not making eye contact.

"He says your aunt was worried about you."

"I told her I'm fine."

"Are you, Peter?" Tony asked. "I want you to be honest with me, kiddo. I want you to be comfortable."

Peter shrugged, rinsing his bowl and putting it in the dishwasher. "School's just... rough."

"What makes it rough?"

"The schoolwork." May always believed that.

"Peter, you're the smartest kid I've ever met. You're the boy genius. Schoolwork should be no problem for you. You've never complained about school before."

Peter felt suffocated. He felt like he was going to panic. "I-I just- It's just-" Peter took a few deep breaths. "I'm gonna go shower. Long day." He quickly pushed past Tony, going to his room. He started the shower, auto-locking the doors. He took a few deep breaths before actually getting in, lights off per usual.

After brushing his hair, the teen hurled himself onto the bed. He lied on his stomach, cheek against the sheets. He wore one of his big hoodies and just some basketball shorts out of his closet. There was a knock a few moments after. Peter pulled a blanket over himself lazily. "Come in."

"Hey, kiddo. I made you a glass of chocolate milk. It's in the fridge if you want it." He sat down on the edge of the bed. "Wanna talk? You just seem upset, I just wanna talk to you."

Peter looked over at him, too tired to lie anymore. "Kids at school are just... jerks."

"Why?"

"They call me my deadname and call me a girl a lot. Some kid today kept trying to talk to me about my chest. MJ blew up at him and made it worse. Everyone at the school knows I'm trans, and it's not like I can transfer. I have to change in the nurse's office and Flash keeps trying to make fun of me for it." He sniffled. "I hate it there. I hate it. I want to go there and get the education, I just hate it so much. I'm sorry." He pulled a blanket over his head.

"Kiddo, I know what you mean. I was an MIT student at fifteen. It's a lot of stress. Everyone's not always the nicest. But things'll get better. I promise."

"It's just stressful. I just... it's a lot. I don't want to bring everyone into it. I don't want everyone to have to deal with it."

"Hey, you're not going through the easiest life. I mean, you aren't dying or anything, but not a lot of people will understand your struggles. But if there's anything I can do, tell me, okay?"

"It's been a long day. I'm sorry, Mr. Stark." He sat up, blanket wrapped around him.

"I get what you mean, kid. You deserve a night off. Frankly, I do too. God, you'd think when you have your own jet, it'd wait for you. I got grilled for being late today. It was my plane!" Tony threw his hands up in the air, making Peter smile a little. "You know what?"

"Yeah?"

"Let's watch one of those movies you like. We can invite Steve and Clint if you want to. They're here somewhere. And, let's be honest," He stood up. "Bucky's probably around here too. Where there is Steve... there is Steve's boyfriend."

Peter smiled and rubbed his eyes. "I'm gonna text MJ and then I'll be over. We can watch whatever they want to watch."

"Of course, kiddo." Tony left, flicking on the lights before he did, though."

  
PETER  
hey gamers

MJ  
whats good

NED  
whats good homeowners

PETER  
that's my thing  
anyway  
sorry about today  
it was hella rough  
ill text you guys tomorrow

MJ  
bye coward

Peter tucked the phone in his pocket and walked out to the living room. He sat on the couch, pulling a blanket over himself. "What do Mr. Rogers and Mr. Barton want to watch?"

"You're so formal, kid."

"I know."

"Some old fifties movie or something. Clint refuses to watch anything I like, so he voted for them." Tony shrugged. "Popcorn?"

"Yes please." Peter rolled up his sleeves to his elbows. For some odd reason, it made him feel more masculine. He had his web-shooters on, which in all honesty, he forgot to take off. They were waterproof, anyway. He was too lazy to go put them away.

"Chocolate milk?"

"No thanks." Peter smiled, feeling better. "Thank you, Mr. Stark."

Tony threw an uncooked kernel into his mouth, breaking his teeth in the process. He turned, raising an eyebrow. "For what?"

"Today. Letting me stay here and helping me with school stuff."

"Oh, of course, kiddo." He put the bag in the microwave, staring it. "You're my priority. I want you to be happy and have a good life because I'll never fully understand the things you go through, but if I can help you, I'll do it. I just want you to- Oh my god, STOP HOLDING HANDS IN MY HALLWAY!" Tony shouted at the hall. Bucky and Steve entered.

"I'll do as I please." Bucky stuck out his tongue. "Sup, squirt." Bucky smiled at him and sat on the end of the couch. Bucky snatched the blanket, tearing it from Peter and making him squeak.

"Come on, Buck, there's like nine. Give him back his blanket." He lowered his voice, but obvious enough for Peter to hear. "Tony'll kill you if you don't."

"Tony, you're a dick." He tossed the blanket back to Peter. The teen grabbed another from the ottoman. "What's on your arms?"

"Uh, just bracelets."

"That's some thick ass bracelets. I want one of them." Bucky yawned. Peter handed Steve a blanket before pulling down his sleeves hastily.

"Okay, Steve, put on your old-ass movie." Tony sat down, bowl on his lap. Peter popped a few in his mouth.

Tony and Bucky had a small conversation making fun of the movie, but Steve shushed them repeatedly. The two didn't care. Their pastimes were to make fun of Steve. So they kept on talking and making fun of anything they could, comparing it to the quality they had today. Steve finally butt in. "Shut up, Tony. Peter and I are trying to watch. Right, P-" Steve leaned forward, but Peter was half asleep, eyes closed. Of course, that made Bucky and Tony burst out laughing. Peter snickered as well, barely awake. "Well, he's trying to sleep, so still shut up." Steve frowned.

Tony ruffled his hair. "G'nite, kiddo." The billionaire kicked his feet up on the table.

"Who the fuck still says _kiddo_?!"

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! i havent posted in a while and im sorry for that, ive been in a slump. but you can request shit over on my tumblr + comments help me feel more encouraged to write!  



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